


home is too far away

by natodiangelo



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Sex, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 18:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11973369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natodiangelo/pseuds/natodiangelo
Summary: In which Noctis is impatient and Prompto goes along with it.





	home is too far away

**Author's Note:**

> i uhhh wow  
> i dont write smut v often and im Really bad at it but like half of this is just them talking anyways so?? i hope you enjoy
> 
> also i have no idea what setting i wrote this in but just imagine a no game verse where they have an apartment together i guess id k

Noctis can’t articulate how much he wants to be home right now. More than he thinks he’s ever wanted to be home, in his messy apartment on his unmade bed with Prompto pinning him to the mattress. Home on his couch with Prompto below him, all red and ready for him to take. Home where he can do _something_ about his problem down below.

They’re in the car and Noctis is driving much faster than he should. He knows that, and he knows that were Ignis here he’d be told off for it fifty different ways, and have his dessert revoked, and other punishments he doesn’t even want to think about. Prompto looks like he might complain if he wasn’t currently sporting the same problem as Noctis.

Noctis is _incredibly_ jealous that Prompto isn’t driving, as much as it’d kill him to have to deal with Prompto’s grandma speed. Jealous, because he can see from the corner of his eye Prompto palming at his pants, face red and mouth parted. Jealous, because he _knows_ if he takes his attention off of his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel for more than a second he’ll crash and probably kill the both of them.

Jealous, because Prompto is moaning and only making his problem worse, and _he can’t take it._

“I’m pulling over.” He says, and the first chance he gets he’s swerving off of the road and onto unmarked land, pulling as far away from the revealing street lights as possible. Prompto yelps as they go over bumps and slam to a stop, but then Noctis is unbuckling and leaning over and the noise is muffled by messy lips.

He finally allows himself to relieve some of the pressure, pressing a heavy hand to the bulge in his pants and letting out a sigh against Prompto’s mouth. Prompto copies it, presses closer, hands buried in Noctis’ hair.

“I’m coming over there.” Noctis tells Prompto, pulling away so he can crawl up on his seat. It’s awkward, and he hits his head against the low roof of the car more than he would have liked, and Prompto laughs at him every time – but eventually he makes it, and the look on Prompto’s face as he straddles his thighs is well worth the effort.

“Smooth,” Prompto laughs against his lips. “Consider me woo-ed.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

Noctis does. He kisses Prompto hard, tongue and teeth and heat, and he really can’t help when he starts to grind down against him. The friction sends sweet pleasure shooting down his spine, so he does it again. And again.

“P-pants…” Prompto mumbles, fumbling for Noctis’ zipper. Noctis reaches down to help him, and between the two of them they manage to pull the fabric down around his thighs. The cold air on his cock makes him shiver, but that’s quickly replaced with the heat of Prompto’s hand.

“Ah, f-fuck, Prom…” He has one arm around Prompto’s neck for balance and one reaching down to press against the tent in Prompto’s pants. The whimper Prompto lets out sends another flash of heat through him, and he bucks into Prompto’s hand. He scrambles to undo Prompto’s zipper.

He pulls Prompto out of his pants as fast as he can; he can feel the heat in himself building up in a way he knows only too well, and he doesn’t want Prompto to be left out of the party. He gives Prompto’s cock a couple of strokes, fast and rough with a twist at the end he knows Prompto loves, before letting go and lining his own hips up with Prompto’s.

He grinds his hips down against Prompto’s dick and moans at the feeling. They’ve done this before – done this _often_ , because they’re young and really can’t help it – but it doesn’t make him reel any less at the feeling of Prompto hard and leaking against him.

Prompto winds his arms around Noctis’ waist, fingers pressing scalding pressure into his hips. Noctis takes both of them in one hand and strokes, rubbing his thumb across their tips, savoring how he can’t even close his hand they’re so large together. Prompto moans, and Noctis leans forward to swallow it.

It goes quickly after that. Their kisses go open mouthed as they pant, the heat building up quickly. Prompto sneaks a hand forward and wraps it around the both of them, too, fingers sliding slick against Noctis’ as they both try to pull themselves toward completion. They’re both bucking their hips and eventually Noctis lets Prompto take over stroking them, winding his arms up and around Prompto’s neck to hold him close.

He bites down on Prompto’s neck when he comes, pleasure white hot along his spine. He shakes for a minute, legs so tense it might hurt if he wasn’t currently on top of the world, before the tide recedes and his whole body relaxes at one, melting against Prompto with a sigh. Prompto’s orgasm only takes a moment longer, one hand working himself furiously until more come splatters on his stomach and he lets out a long, low groan.

They both just sit there for a minute, waiting for the fog to lift off their minds. Noctis really doesn’t want to try to crawl back into the driver’s seat – really doesn’t want to drive at all, would much rather already be home in his bed where he can curl up against Prompto’s side and fall asleep.

But he’s not home yet. His elbow hits the car door and his knees really don’t have enough room the way he’s sitting and when he leans his head back to look at Prompto he knocks it against the ceiling for the fiftieth time, and Prompto’s laugh only barely covers it this time as he grumbles and stumbles his way back over onto his own seat.

“I’m buying a van,” Noctis says, though he has no intention of buying one, and isn’t actually irritated at the situation. It makes Prompto snort all the same.

“You’re going to buy a van so we can have better car sex?”

“Exactly. One of those ones with the open back, so we can put a mattress in there or something.” He thumps his head against the headrest. “Then we can sleep when we’re done.”

“That’d be good for road trips.” Prompto admits, and Noctis laughs because it _would_ be, and he imagines telling Ignis that and seeing the disappointment in his eyes and laughs again.

“Iggy wouldn’t approve.”

“Yeah, well, when does Ignis approve of _anything_ you do?”

“Good point.”

They both sit there for another minute, and Noctis realizes that he’s beginning to nod off. Prompto seems to have also realized this, because he gives Noctis a fond smile and says, “You want me to drive?”

“Yes, please,” Noctis begs, and Prompto laughs as they both get out and switch seats. Prompto’s only barely cleaned up; Noctis can see wet stains on his shirt and feels sort of bad, because it can’t be comfortable. But his own isn’t much better, and they don’t have anything else in the car, so it’ll just have to do until they get home.

He falls asleep sometime during the ride, and the next thing he knows Prompto’s shaking him awake and they’re parked in the garage for their apartment.

He’s only partially awake when they stumble into the elevator, and he’s mostly awake when he fumbles his keys out of his pockets and opens up the door. He immediately goes to the bedroom to lay back down, and Prompto makes a noise of disgust.

“Dude, you still have jizz all over you. At least change clothes before you ruin the bed.”

He makes a fake snoring sound, loud enough for Prompto to hear from the bathroom. A moment later, Prompto’s stomping his way to the bed and dragging Noct off of it.

“You think I’m joking,” Prompto says, dropping him in a pile on the floor. Noctis groans. “You’re not the one who does the laundry.”

Eventually, Noctis rolls onto his back and sits up. Prompto’s giving him a look that’s mostly amusement, and so he knows he isn’t in any actual trouble. He pulls his shirt off in one quick move before diving back onto the bed.

“There.”

“Hey!”

They wrestle for a moment, in which Prompto sticks his bony elbows into Noctis’ side and Noctis pinches his nose, before Prompto successfully gets him up and away from their fresh sheets and toward the closet to get changed. Noctis is an easy fight, half asleep and so incredibly in love, and so he changes into pajamas and brushes his teeth and promises to take a shower first thing in the morning without complaint.

As they curl into bed together, warm and soft and safe, Prompto says, “We really need to stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Sex in the car. What if we make a mess? Or what if it starts to smell?”

“You sit in it, too late for that.”

“ _You’re_ the one who smells, excuse you.” Prompto flicks his nose, and Noctis scrunches up his face and pokes his side. “Anyways, we really should just wait until we get home.”

“You’re the one who acts all sexy and gets me riled up.”

“ _You’re_ the one who shoved me against the wall before we were barely even _out_ of the place. _You_ got _me_ riled up.”

“Yeah, and you being riled makes me riled.”

“You’re too much for me.” Prompto laughs, tickling him. “Stop riling me up, so I stop riling you up, so our car doesn’t smell like sex. Okay?”

Noctis squirms away from him, trying not to laugh. “ _Fine_ , but only if we stop having such fucking long trips to places.”

“I can’t promise that!”

“Then no deal.” He curls his arms back around Prompto, closing his eyes. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Hey, wait, no! We’re talking!”

“Tomorrow.” The words are muffled against Prompto’s chest as he settles himself in. “We can talk tomorrow.”

Prompto gives in, of course; Noctis’ knows he can’t fight against him, and he’s happy for it too. Sleep is already dimming the edges of his vision, and with Prompto warm and solid against him he falls easily into slumber.


End file.
